


Insight

by foxysquid



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Card Games, Dragons, M/M, Magical Artifacts, Past Child Abuse, Past Lives, Rich Businessmen With Emotional Problems, Visions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-29
Updated: 2013-12-29
Packaged: 2018-01-06 16:06:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1108842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxysquid/pseuds/foxysquid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seto Kaiba has come to see Pegasus, to propose a working relationship between Industrial Illusions and Kaiba Corp. Pegasus is indeed interested in Kaiba's new technology, but more interested in Kaiba himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Insight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pandir](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pandir/gifts).



> After some deliberation, I decided to refer to Pegasus as if his only name is "Pegasus", kind of like Cher or Sting, because I didn't want to deal with calling him Maximillion or Mr. Crawford or whatever--he'll always just be Pegasus to me!

Pegasus smiled across the table at the younger man, who was sitting stiffly in his chair. Pegasus tried his best to put his associates at ease, but in this case, he was dealing with a sizable obstacle. That obstacle was the young man himself, who looked about as able to relax as the device resting on the table in front of him: pale, narrow, unyielding. 

Seto Kaiba was rattling off a seemingly endless stream of statistics concerning his invention, and Pegasus continued to smile. Then he nodded and made his expression thoughtful. Then smiled again. He was minimally interested in statistics, but young Kaiba was quite clearly enthralled by them. Very well, Pegasus would do him the courtesy of listening to his recitation. He was only partly paying attention to the words themselves, however, instead focusing the greater part of his concentration on the young man's face as he spoke. The ache where his left eye used to be began to throb dully, but he ignored that feeling for now. He would rely on his own senses for the time being. He'd found that one could learn much about a man from watching him talk. It was true in the dueling arena, and it was true in the boardroom. People gave themselves away.

Kaiba's face was lean, almost severe. That face had none of the softness of youth. Not even the loose hair of his bangs could lessen its severity, especially not with those eyes staring out from between the long strands. His eyes were a striking shade of blue, but there was a hardness to them that made Pegasus wonder.

Like everyone else, he knew the story: Gozaburo Kaiba's sudden demise, and the ascendancy of his adopted son. The former weapons company had, without warning or delay, been transformed into a game company. An unexpected business decision, to say the least. It was a decision that had intrigued Pegasus. When the young man had made overtures towards him, proposing that they work together, he had immediately agreed to hear him out. He was glad that he had. He was beginning to think he would enjoy working with Seto Kaiba.

Kaiba droned on and on. He had an impressive memory for figures, but a time came when Pegasus had had his fill of studying him. "That's enough," he said sharply, causing Kaiba to break off in mid-sentence, before he added more gently, "for now." He allowed a gracious smile to blossom on his lips. He would not want to be thought of as stern. He prided himself on his hospitality. "Surely, you must be hungry. And perhaps--thirsty?" Though Kaiba had had a long trip, he had not eaten a scrap of food since his arrival. Business seemed to be his primary concern, if not his only one. Yet he _was_ human, as far as Pegasus could tell. He didn't think that Gozaburo Kaiba could have created such a convincing android.

"I could do with some food," admitted the young man, his tone emotionless.

"Then we'll see about getting you something to eat, shall we?" Pegasus rose from his seat. This room was suitable for meetings, but not dining. No, that wouldn't do. He had the dining hall for that, and a lovely hall it was. His home was designed to cater to every aspect of an associate's stay.

"Fine," said Kaiba. Though he had a great deal to say when it came to tech and specs, he was a curt, terse man when it came to niceties.

Pegasus had had no occasion to work with Gozaburo Kaiba. Industrial Illusions had little to do with weapons of the kind Kaiba Corp had manufactured under its previous CEO. He did not know what kind of person Gozaburo had been, although by watching the younger Kaiba, he had gleaned some information about the dead man. Gozaburo had been the kind of father who could turn a child into a seemingly joyless adult, and that was not something Pegasus could approve of. 

At dinner, Kaiba refused the wine he was offered. He ate much as he seemed to do everything: without pleasure. The dishes were the finest Pegasus' chef could devise, which was saying a great deal, yet when the servants set the plates down before Kaiba, he did not remark upon the delightful presentation or the delicious scent. He picked up his fork and transferred the food from his plate into his mouth with an almost mechanical regularity. _Savoring_ was clearly not a word in his vocabulary.

"So, tell me a bit about yourself," said Pegasus, leaning towards him. He placed an elbow on the table and rested his chin on his hand in a fashion that was perhaps unrefined, but forgivable in his own home. "I like to know the people I work with."

"There's not a great deal to tell," said Kaiba. "I run my company. I duel. I am determined to be the best in everything I do."

"Anything else? Surely all your time can't be taken up by working and dueling, can it?"

"Much of it."

"And the remainder?"

Kaiba put down his fork and regarded Pegasus flatly before he spoke. "I am my younger brother's guardian. Raising a child takes time."

"I see. You are rather young yourself. That's a great deal of responsibility for someone your age."

Kaiba snorted. "My age is irrelevant."

Pegasus supposed that was true in a sense, but not completely. "I don't know about that. I find it impressive that you've achieved so much at such a young age. I believe anyone would think the same."

"I don't care what people think."

"An admirable outlook." 

Kaiba began to eat again. He was not the most personable business partner possible, but he was extremely talented. Undeniably brilliant. In the short time since Kaiba Corp had given up weapons for games, this man, who was sitting and eating so robotically before him, had invented an entirely new technology designed to work with Pegasus' own product. Not only that, but he was prepared to begin mass producing it at any moment. A remarkable individual. "Do you mind if I ask you a question?"

"Ask what you want."

"Why is it that you decided to change your company's line of business? I'd imagine weapons would be more profitable, no? And your infrastructure was already in place."

Kaiba answered immediately, "I can make the maximum profit with any product."

Such an outrageous claim, yet Pegasus did not disbelieve him, and outrageousness was a trait to be appreciated. A slow smile spread across his face. His charm was largely wasted on Kaiba, but that was no reason not to use it anyway. "Oh, that's not the issue. I simply mean--why games instead of weapons? Such a radical shift in product was no doubt costly and time-consuming, so there must have been a reason. More than mere fondness."

Kaiba took another bite of a dish he wasn't tasting before replying, "I won't be a part of anything that harms children."

For the first time, Pegasus heard real emotion in the other man's voice. It was hidden beneath the ice of his tone: anger with a bitter taste. "I can understand that," Pegasus said smoothly. It would have been polite of him to steer the conversation elsewhere at this point, but he sensed a nerve. He had not quite struck it, but almost. Once, he would have backed away from the sensitive subject, but then, once he had been a gentleman. A vulnerable spot no longer made him hold back. It drew him closer. "Your father was a ruthless man, I've heard."

No one else would have noticed Kaiba's reaction. The muscles in his face did not shift, but the expression in his eyes did. The cold look became something more than cold. It was utterly blank. Empty. There was nothing in those eyes now as they glanced up at Pegasus.

The socket that had once housed Pegasus' left eye began to ache again, more insistently than before. The false Eye, the stranger--it gave him the ability to see things no other man could, but this power was not without a price. The Eye yearned to see everything, even those things Pegasus would have preferred to look away from. At times, he suspected the item had its own mind, its own aims, and for some reason, it was particularly interested in this young man. It had been aching on and off since Kaiba's arrival, with greater intensity than usual.

An odd, sudden thought came to him, as fleeting as it was intense: _He should be king_. Pegasus shuddered, without understanding. There was a great deal that he did not know about the Eye.

"My father was weak," said Kaiba.

Pegasus felt a twinge in his left temple. He smiled, but it was not his old, genuine smile. The Eye had changed him. It had opened a dark door in his heart. Had it made the door, or had the door already been there, waiting to be pulled open by some outer or inner force? Whatever the case, Pegasus did not look away. A soft, high humming filled his left ear, and he felt the golden Eye grow warm, that warmth suffusing the left side of his face.

He focused his gaze and looked behind the blank wall of Seto Kaiba's eyes.

He felt a sharpness across his face, and after the initial shock of the sensation, he realized it was the memory of being struck. He stumbled back and fell to his knees, then looked up to see who had done this to him. The man above him was impossibly tall, his suit as red as his face was dark with anger, but Pegasus was not conscious of feeling any fear. Instead, he struggled to his feet and stood, still and firm before his attacker. "I'll do what you want." His words were resigned, but his voice was not. It was a child's voice, calm and clear.

"What was that?" Kaiba's own voice cut through the vision that had taken hold of Pegasus. "What did you say?" Finally, Pegasus had achieved a pronounced emotional response. Kaiba's cheeks had been drained of all color.

Interesting. Kaiba was, in some way, sensing the Eye's power. "Oh? Did I say something? You must be mistaken."

"No, I--I don't know." Kaiba's fork was down again, and he seemed to have forgotten it existed. "I felt strange. For a moment, I--" He broke off, closing his mouth tightly.

"You've had a long day, haven't you?" Pegasus beamed at him, as if had no idea what could possibly be the matter. "You must be so tired, my dear boy. Jet lagged, perhaps? And how silly of me--I've kept you talking all this time. I've been such a thoughtless host. I do hope you can forgive me."

"No, I'm fine," Kaiba protested, but he reached up to touch his forehead, and it was clear that he was badly shaken. "I don't need--"

Pegasus shook his head, rising from his seat. "Nonsense. We all need rest. I'll have someone show you to your room. I insist." 

"Maybe you're right." Some part of Kaiba's defenses had fallen, and he abandoned his objections. 

Pegasus clapped his hands, and one of his assistants appeared before him. Pegasus gave instructions, and they were followed. He stayed behind in the dining hall, watching the young man retreat down the corridor. Kaiba's body was long and lean, and he walked with a curiously inflexible grace. Pegasus discovered that he enjoyed watching Kaiba move, but once the young man had disappeared around the corner, he felt a curious depletion of strength, and he sagged. He had to put a hand on the back of the nearest chair to hold himself up. How bizarre. It seemed he was rather tired as well. That was unexpected. He had made no long journey today, but his limbs felt weak nonetheless. Perhaps, he reflected, he should take his own advice. _We all need rest._

#

Pegasus lay down in his bed. He closed his eye, the one still capable of closing. The other, the Eye, stared on: forever open, watching. It made sleep difficult. He had almost forgotten what real sleep was like, a sweet, normal human sleep, with both eyes closed. Was it even sleep that he fell into during these uneasy nights? Perhaps it was something else: a trance, a waking dream.

The Eye cast a shadow inside him, from his head to his heart. Looking back, Pegasus' memory of the day he'd received it was both vivid and fractured. Had he chosen this, or had it been thrust upon him? He couldn't deny that he had wanted it, in a way. Or something like it. He had been seeking something fantastic and strange, something that would prove there was a life beyond this one. That was the one thing he had longed most desperately to believe, because what he had truly wanted was a measure of hope. A reason to go on living. 

He'd been so young then. Not so much time had passed since that day, but he felt he had grown old, weighed down by years he had not earned, years that had been pressed upon him, like a burden from some other lifetime. 

He had wanted a reason to live, but had he found a good reason, or a bad one?

Pegasus lay dreaming.

He dreamed of darkness, like an empty night sky, but it was not a sky. The darkness surrounded him, close and cold. There was nothing else in this world. No ground below him, no space to move through. The completeness of the void first chilled him, then frightened him. He tried to move, struggling against the nothingness, but he could not move. He could not see what held him fast--how could something hold him when there was nothing there? He didn't know, but he knew that he was trapped and wanted to escape. 

Just as panic seized Pegasus' throat, threatening to choke him, distant lights appeared before him. He focused on their brightness, forgetting his terror. As he concentrated, the lights began to take shape. The first was a glowing ring, and the second was a bright inverted pyramid, both of them far away and small, shining in the darkness like stars. One by one, four more lights appeared, but they were too far off for him to see what shape they took. The ring was the closest to him, watching him like another eye. When he fixed his gaze upon it, he heard a sound like laughter. It was low and slow at first, an amused chuckle, but it quickly rose into a hysterical cackle, brittle with madness. 

Pegasus began to panic again. There was an eye in the ring, and it was fixed upon him. It drew nearer, and he realized there were two eyes, a face. A smile. It was from the smile that the laughter came, such terrible laughter. It had grown so loud that it hurt his ears. Who could laugh like that? He didn't want to know. Something told him that he shouldn't think of the ring. He shouldn't look at it.

He squeezed his eye shut, and with his normal vision cut off, the laughter suddenly broke off. The silence that followed was complete and lasting. Pegasus began to wonder if the darkness was still there, but he did not want to risk hearing that laughter again. He held out as long as he could, until he could bear his curiosity no longer. He dared a peek.

Everything had changed. He was standing in the middle of a great room with a vaulted ceiling and stone walls. A bearded man wearing robes and a pale hood was standing there with him, watching him. Pegasus saw, to his surprise, that the man was regarding him with the same golden Eye that had been placed in Pegasus' own head.

"Hello," said Pegasus, cautiously. He did not think this man was the source of that horrid laughter, but he could not be sure.

"I did what had to be done," the hooded man insisted, as if Pegasus had said something else.

Pegasus realized that the man's robes and hands were covered in blood. Had the blood been there all along, or had it suddenly appeared?

"You would have done the same," said the man, fiercely. "So many lives were at stake."

No, the man was not merely soaked in blood. Blood was flowing from him. As Pegasus watched, it spread from the hem of his robes outward. Pegasus stepped back. He was overcome by the thought that something awful would happen if he allowed that blood to touch him. "No, please," he said. The blood flowed faster, and he had to step back more quickly, but as he did so his gaze remained fixed on the man who also wore the Eye.

As he watched, the man's body began to break apart, as if it was dissolving in the dark liquid. Suddenly, pain stabbed through Pegasus' left temple, so intense he screamed. There was so much blood. He could not longer keep away from it. The floor beneath his feet was slick with it, and he could not step back, because there was nowhere else to go. The room was full of the thick, bitter liquid. Pegasus could no longer see the hooded man. He struggled to keep his footing, but it was no good. He slipped, and he was falling, drowning--

Everything was dark again, but this time, Pegasus was not paralyzed, and there was no void. It was as if he was simply standing in a room with the lights out. It was quiet. He saw no immediate cause for alarm, and he began to relax, but he felt a light touch on his face, very like fingertips brushing his cheek, and he froze. He was not alone here. A voice spoke to him, and it was unquestionably the voice belonging to the mad laughter from before. He could not mistake that voice for any other. "I'll tell you a secret," it said. Pegasus could feel its breath against his ear, and he knew that he did not want to hear that secret. "I haven't told anyone else. Listen. It's--"

Pegasus screamed himself awake, sitting up in bed. His neck and shoulders were wet. Frantic, he reached out to turn on the lamp at his bedside. When the room filled with light, he saw to his relief that it was not blood on his skin, but sweat. He buried his face in his hands. Thank god. Or thank whoever would receive his thanks.

Soon, there came a banging on his door, and a voice. "Mr. Pegasus, are you all right?"

"I'm fine, thank you. You may go."

He listened to his servant's footsteps recede down the hallway. This was not the first time he had screamed in the night. Nightmares were nothing new to him, but Pegasus could not remember having one quite like that before. He wondered why it had been different. Nothing had changed, except for the fact that Seto Kaiba was staying with him.

Pegasus rose from his bed and slipped on the bathrobe draped over the back of his chair. He glanced at the clock. It was past midnight. He made his way out into the hall. The servant who had come to check on him was nowhere to be seen. He was alone. That suited him. He often wandered the halls of his home at night, and he preferred not to be disturbed as he did so. Usually, at such times, he would visit Cecelia's portrait, but that was not where he went tonight.

The corridors of his home had never seemed so long. He felt he walked an endless distance before he came at last to the door to Kaiba's room. Once there, he paused. The hall was dark and empty, and Pegasus could not hear a sound.

He allowed himself to ponder what such a meeting with Kaiba might have been like for him if he had not had the Eye. Kaiba was young, attractive, talented. He imagined another kind of dinner, a light flirtation, teasing. Maybe he could have pressed a glass of wine on Kaiba, and he would have been treated to the fine sight of a blush spreading across Kaiba's pale cheeks. Such an encounter would have been very pleasant, but he was a changed man. He was a man who dreamed strange dreams, who could see into hearts and minds. 

The Eye never closed. It pulled at him now, drawing his gaze to where Kaiba slept, behind the closed door. No walls could block the Eye's vision.

Kaiba was dreaming, too. It might have seemed like a delightful idea, watching other people's dreams, but it was not. Dreams, even the pleasant ones, were unsettling and personal, and watching them was too intimate to be enjoyable. It gave one the feeling of seeing something one should not see. Yet as before, Pegasus could not look away.

Contrasting Kaiba's orderly, controlled manner and appearance, his dream, at first, was a confused flurry of images. Pegasus could only isolate a few of them: a black-haired child sobbing in a corner; the back of a small hand marred by red welts; pale, curving wings like the wings of a dragon rising above him.

Pegasus could move through the dream. Such travel was like wading through waist-deep water in a way, though without the wetness. It was slow going, and he met some resistance, but nothing he couldn't handle.

How strange: when he came to the center of the dream, he found a room, not unlike the one he'd seen in his own dream, the room in which the bearded man had turned into a river of blood. It had walls of stone and a warm, foreign light. There was a man in this room too, but it was not the same man. No, this one was younger, dressed in blue and gold. His back was to Pegasus, so Pegasus could not see his face at first, but when he took another step, the man whirled to face him. "Who are you?" he demanded. "What are you doing here?"

Pegasus was startled to find that the man looked a great deal like Seto Kaiba, though his skin was dark and his voice was strange. Those blue eyes were the same. The man strode towards him, and Pegasus saw no reason to avoid him, so he did not. He was curious about this young man, as he was about Seto Kaiba.

"I don't understand this at all," said the stranger, and he touched Pegasus' face, just beneath his eye. His fingertips were warm and slightly rough. The touch was not unpleasant. "Why do you have the Eye? It isn't yours."

Pegasus found he could speak. "It was given to me."

"Given? Who would give a gift like this? It's no one's to give." He sniffed. "And what are these clothes you're wearing? So undignified."

Pegasus looked down at himself. In this dream, he was dressed in his usual dark pink suit, which was indeed very unlike the younger man's blue and gold robes. "Seto," Pegasus said uncertainly, for some reason using his given name.

"Who are you to speak my name?" Seto--for somehow, it was him--demanded.

"This is a dream," said Pegasus, half to himself and half to the man standing before him. "It isn't real."

Seto frowned, then nodded as comprehension lit his eyes. "I see. You're a spirit of some kind? What have you come to tell me?"

This Seto's matter of fact acceptance of the idea that he was a spirit seemed at odds with the Seto Pegasus had met earlier that day. Pegasus was not sure what to say in reply. But a chill washed over him, and he remembered the dark void he had found himself trapped inside in his own dream. As in a dream, he found himself saying words he did not quite know the meaning of, yet believed implicitly. "Something terrible is coming," he said. "A river of blood. And a great darkness."

"What do you mean?" Seto demanded. But he--and the room--were already starting to fade. Or was it Pegasus who was fading? "Tell me what you mean!" shouted Seto, but his shout had the volume of a whisper, and then he was gone.

Pegasus felt so weary. He was being drained by these dreams, first his own and now Seto's. They were too much for him. No man should dream more than his own dreams. But his ordeal was not yet over, and he found himself in a new locale. Thankfully, it was a relatively ordinary one. It was a bedroom. The strong scent of tobacco was in the air. Seto was here again. This was the Seto he knew from the waking world, but much younger, maybe eleven or twelve years old. The boy was sitting at the edge of the bed, weeping disconsolately.

"Hello there. What's the matter?" Pegasus asked gently. He felt more at ease with a child than he had with the dark-skinned version of Seto. Pegasus had loved being a child. Sometimes he wished he was one still. He'd known no sorrow in the golden days of his youth, though he saw that that hadn't been the case for young Kaiba.

The boy looked up at him, eyes shining with tears. He blinked and wiped his face. "I'm frightened," he said.

"What are you afraid of?"

Seto glanced at the door with a grave frown and a creased brow. The serious adult, Pegasus could see, had once been a serious child.

"It's all right, whatever it is," said Pegasus. "I won't let anything bad happen."

"Who are you, sir?" the boy asked, much more politely than his older self.

"Oh, you can call me Pegasus."

"Like the mythological creature?" Seto asked, a little skeptical.

"Yes, that's right."

"I prefer dragons."

"Dragons are very formidable, it's true."

Seto studied him. Pegasus had the feeling that he was being sized up, so he remained where he was and waited for the boy to make up his mind. At last, Seto decided. "You seem nice." He got to his feet. "Come with me. I want to show you something."

"Very well," said Pegasus, a little amused by Seto's formal tone. "Whatever you like."

He followed the boy out of the room and through the hallways beyond. Because this was a dream, the halls seemed to twist unnaturally, and at times they reminded Pegasus of the halls in his own home. When they reached their destination, Pegasus found it was another bedroom, not much different than the one they'd left behind. The curtains and sheets were stiff and extravagant, and Pegasus would not have been surprised if someone had informed him that no one lived in this room, that it was a showroom set up to display the furniture.

Seto walked to the bookshelf, rose up onto his toes, and stretched his arm to the highest shelf he could reach. He pulled one of the books down, then returned to Pegasus with it. His tone, when he spoke, was low and earnest. "It's a secret. Don't tell anyone, please."

For a cold instant, Pegasus remembered that other secret, the one he had not heard, but he pushed all thoughts of that from his mind, concentrating on the young Seto before him. With one finger, Pegasus drew lines over the center of his chest. "Cross my heart and hope to die."

Seto frowned. "You shouldn't say that. It's terrible to die. You never come back."

"Oh, I do apologize. I didn't mean it literally. I only mean I promise."

Seto pursed his lips. He regarded Pegasus dubiously for a moment, then nodded. "That's all right, then." He opened the book in his hands. It was hollow: a hidden treasure box. From inside, Seto withdrew a deck of Duel Monsters cards. "Father says I'm not allowed to have them, but I keep them in here," he said, a trace of excitement audible in his voice.

Pegasus looked down at the cards in the child's hands. They were a little worn, well-loved. He was moved, looking at them. He had made these cards, and they clearly brought this solemn boy a rare measure of joy. "Do you play often?" he asked.

"No, I don't have anyone to play with. Mokuba's too little, and we only have one deck. But someday, I'm going to be the best duelist in the world." He stated this plainly, as if it were an incontestable fact.

"I'm certain you will," Pegasus agreed, smiling.

This pleased Seto. "Thank you." Though he did not quite smile in return, he brightened. He returned the cards to the book and returned the book to the shelf, quickly. "I have to put them back now. If Father finds them," he said softly, "I don't know what he'll do."

Pegasus heard a sound behind him and turned. He half-expected to see Gozaburo Kaiba standing there, but no, it was something else altogether. A dragon, white and shining, lay curled there, watching him. Pegasus recognized it at once, as it was a monster from his own game: the Blue-Eyes White Dragon. 

This was no mere card or projection, however. It was the real dragon. Although it lay very still, it was undeniably alive. Pegasus could hear it breathing. It was so close to him and so huge that he felt a hot stab of fear before he reminded himself that this was a dream. Seto was not afraid of the dragon. When he saw the creature, he smiled in earnest for the first time. Neither adult Seto nor the strange, dark-skinned Seto had shown him a real smile like that. It was a small, serious smile from a small, serious boy. "Don't worry," Seto said to Pegasus, as if Pegasus were the child and he the adult. "It won't hurt you. It's my friend."

The false book with its secret hidden away on the shelf, Seto approached the dragon. Even though this was a dream, Pegasus felt worried for the boy as he stretched his hand out, trusting and gentle, and touched the creature's muzzle, his hand coming to rest just above its mouth. Pegasus didn't feel any better when that mouth began to open. "Don't be afraid," Seto said. "I have to do this." He slid his arm into the dragon's mouth.

"No," Pegasus called out to the boy. "Please, don't."

"It's all right," said Seto, turning briefly to smile at him again. Pegasus was afraid that the dragon would tear the boy apart, but it remained motionless, its mouth yawning wide. Seto put his other arm in after the first, then climbed inside. The creature's jaws closed over him gingerly. This done, the dragon watched Pegasus with its cold blue eyes. There was an intelligence in those eyes. He was being studied, measured. 

"I don't understand," said Pegasus. He experienced fear again, but he was no longer afraid of the dragon. There was something else in the air: the scent of tobacco again. Pegasus began to cough. As if this were a signal, the dragon spread its wings and rose up onto its hind legs. Its wings were so bright. They shone like silver. Pegasus took a step back. The creature looked ready to attack, and he didn't want to stand in its way. It opened its mouth again, but instead of Seto, all Pegasus could see inside its mouth was light. The whole world was filled with blinding light.

Pegasus was blinded for a moment. In that moment, everything changed. Pegasus was no longer himself. He was in the dark again. It felt as if he were in a small place, and an ordinary one, with walls on every side, hemming him in. The fear in him did not lessen. It grew.

"Where am I?" he asked. His voice sounded soft and young in his ears. It was not his own voice. It was Seto's. That realization frightened him. He had become a child, powerless and small. He and Seto were dreaming the same dream. This had never happened to Pegasus before. He had always been the observer, never forced to participate unless he so chose. He banged on the surface nearest to him, a wall and not a door, from the feel of it. He wondered if there were any doors here. He felt for one, but every surface his hands touched was smooth, seamless. "Let me out!" 

"Be quiet," a voice said, and it was Seto's voice, but this time, it was speaking to him. Two voices, two minds, in the same body. Seto's words did not have the tone of a command, but of advice. "Be very quiet and very still." Seto didn't sound frightened, and Pegasus was somewhat calmed. "You'll be all right. I won't let anything bad happen to you."

Was Seto talking to Pegasus, or to himself?

Somehow, a door opened, in this place that seemed to have no doors. Pegasus could hear it open, though it did not let in any light. He hardly had time to process this realization before the pain began. The dream did not, mercifully, show him what was happening, but he felt as if his body was being pulled apart. He tried to be quiet, as Seto has instructed, but it was so difficult to keep from crying out. He bit down on his lip. 

He tried to think of something--anything--else, and suddenly, it came to him: a white dragon, shining in the darkness. It was beautiful. He kept his gaze on it, and he found could stay quiet. He could stay still. He became aware of the fact that his face was wet, but with blood or tears, he could not tell at first. No, it must have been tears. He could taste them on his lips. He was weeping with both eyes, for the first time in so long.

Pegasus wanted to stop. To stop seeing. This was too much. He shouldn't be here. He had to awaken from this dream. He reached up to touch his left eye. It was still there, the unyielding metal. "Take me out of here!" he commanded, though at times like this he suspected that the Eye did not follow his commands, but deigned to humor him when it chose.

This time, it took pity on him. He found himself back in the hallway of his own house, sagging back against the wall. He touched his face, his chest, his arms, relieved to be himself again.

Pegasus heard a noise. The soft sounding of a voice, not loud enough to be called a cry. His good eye widened. He was awake, but Kaiba was asleep, still caught in that nightmare. Pegasus did not hesitate. He threw the door open and raced into Kaiba's room.

The man was sleeping fitfully in his bed, covers twisted around his body. Pegasus hurried to his bedside. "Kaiba, please, wake up." He touched Kaiba's shoulder. It felt damp, even through the fabric of his pyjama shirt. Pegasus knew he probably shouldn't touch him, but he couldn't allow Kaiba to stay in that place. "Please." Pegasus shook his shoulder gently.

Kaiba started awake, grabbing Pegasus' arm at the wrist. Pegasus could see him in the dark. He could see everything now. Kaiba's face was pale and drawn. His eyes were wide. "What--?" he murmured.

"You were dreaming," Pegasus said.

Kaiba's breathing was quick, irregular. He did not let go of Pegasus' arm. Pegasus wondered how many people had seen him like this, with all of his defenses stripped away. "Why are you here?" Kaiba asked.

Pegasus was not sure of the answer to that question. He was drawn to this man, but he wasn't sure why. On an impulse, he reached out and touched Kaiba's face with his free hand. Kaiba drew back, but only slightly. "I heard you cry out," said Pegasus. "What were you dreaming of?"

"Nothing," said Kaiba.

Pegasus did not need to use the Eye to tell that Kaiba was lying. Some people did forget what they were dreaming upon awakening, but that was not true of Kaiba, not now. Pegasus seated himself on the edge of the bed. "It's all right," he said. He touched Kaiba's face again. This time, Kaiba did not pull away. Pegasus could feel Kaiba's desire, his loneliness, his sorrow. Perhaps it was unfair to use his knowledge in this way, but what was knowledge for, if not to use it? And the poor boy was suffering, wasn't he?

He trailed his fingers down over Kaiba's throat. The skin there was so soft. Kaiba's grip on his wrist tightened. "What are you doing?" he asked, his tone a little alarmed, though he allowed the touch to continue.

Pegasus moved to put his arm around him. Kaiba felt stiff and awkward in his embrace, so Pegasus smoothed down his hair and stroked his back. "Don't be afraid," he said. So sad, so cold. What this man needed was someone to love him.

Pegasus knew he could not be the one to love Kaiba. Perhaps if things were different, if he were different, but he had another destiny to follow. He could see it stretching out before him: a long, dark road. He could not love Kaiba, but he could keep him warm. He kissed Kaiba's lips.

Kaiba's eyes were wide, but he returned the kiss. He let go of Pegasus' wrist, and he did not resist as Pegasus stroked his throat, unbuttoned his pyjama shirt.

Pegasus closed his eye, leaning into the kiss, and behind his closed eyelid, he saw it again: the great darkness, marked by six lights. He saw the ring again, and the inverted pyramid. He was conscious of his own Eye shining too, as if calling out to them. They seemed closer than they had been in his dream. No, he would not contemplate them. Opening his eye again, he gripped Kaiba tightly, pulled him close, kissed him harder. It felt good to kiss him, to lie beside him. The closeness helped him see an important truth, a truth that he'd missed: he was lonely, too. How odd that he hadn't noticed it before.

"How is this?" he asked Kaiba, kissing his throat, stroking his chest. "Do you want this?"

"I don't--know what to do," Kaiba admitted, sounding younger than he was.

Pegasus experienced a surge of fondness for him. "That's all right, my dear boy. I can figure it out for the both of us." He smiled against Kaiba's lips, the ache in his left eye socket subsiding. He pushed all thoughts of darkness and light from his mind and focused on the young man in his arms. This might not have been love, but there was no reason they couldn't be friends. While they were together, they would not be alone.


End file.
